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Thursday, 31 May 2012

What is it with little boys and their junk?? And by junk, of course I mean their goalies. Oh, and by goalies, of course I mean dongs. What are dongs? Well, I'm trying to say their wiener. Wiener and balls to be exact...put them together, and voila! Their junk. So again, what the heck? It's like, a handle or something....better hang on for dear life in case it decides to up and fall off! Like yesterday for example, we're potty training the youngest (okay so he's old enough that he should be potty trained already but life is just so busy....and why do I feel the need to justify my non-potty trained 2.5 year old to you anyways? Thanks alot "society" you filthy two faced whore, he could be in diapers till he's seven and that's my business and not anybody elses....well, mine and social services because I'm sure his grade 2 teacher would have them knocking on our door.....sigh....this is probably another blog post all in it's self so I'm just gonna drop it and back away slowly...okay? Ready....one....two......three!) potty training the youngest and so he's running around, all free ballin it....flapping in the breeze, attempting to slide down the plastic slide....which sounds as painful as I'm sure it must feel. And every few seconds he's gotta reach on down and give it a little tug....or cup it and hang on to it while making directing eye contact...just long enough to be awkward. I mean, he's young enough, it's not horrific to see his little dingle dangling.....but there are things to be on the watch for. Like yesterday, I send Gill to my house to drop off some stuff and she comes back to the shop and tells me Lenny is running around naked.....and eating chips.....and SHARING chips....which seconds after she ate, the ol hand went back down to his junk to give it a loving tug and you KNOW that chip you just ate, was covered in penis. Over dinner, my mom shared such a story too....her moment of realization after eating a few chips out of his hand.....that second you know you've eaten a chip that touched a toddlers schlong in a round about way...and I mean, those hands are all up and on that junk! Anybody with boys knows what I'm talking about. Such an early fascination with that thing.....it's like he's already making peace with the fact that it will be making the majority of his decisions for him during "those" years in his future. He just needs to make sure it hangs in there, and doesn't get lost anywhere. And I mean really, there is nothing cuter then having him hop up on your lap and his cuuuuuute little butt cheeks dimple all up on your leg....and then you feel the ball sack settling in on the front and the cute factor drops a notch. But in the end, during this potty training phase, it's just one of those things we have to endure...I mean, yesterday he peed in the potty ALL day long for the babysitter....and my mom came and relieved her and he peed in the proper places for her too........until five minutes before I'm due to arrive home. I'm leaving the shop and we have this conversation via text....

me - Will be laving in 5. Have to stop and get wine Bary said.
Mom - Your child just shit outside, and down his leg, and ya he stepped in it. I'm having wine alone now, no guilt.

..........so then there's that. No amount of junk pulling can distract you from that. So I get home just in time to pick up little turds dropped all along the walk way......and just in time to witness Kohen ride a scooter through one of them...on purpose I think.....and continue riding it along the rest of the driveway. OH BOYS and your junk.....at least when they're holding on to it, their hands aren't free to cause much other trouble I suppose.....or at least in this house of four junk holders and me, I can only dare to hope.

Tuesday, 22 May 2012

So I don't know if you guys know this about me....but one time, I used to go to church. I'm talking the Catholic church! I'd go once a week, sometimes twice and spend anywhere from two to four hours there....in the hall, church and the fathers house. Now I know it's early, and I'm sure lots of you have headed to get more coffee because you're pretty sure you aren't reading this right, thinking what the H E double hockey sticks is Shannon Koochin doing at church!?!? So let me finish my story....I used to clean the church, hall and fathers house....OH and his motor home but that's another story. When Gavin was a year old or so I did a stint as a cleaning lady. I didn't mind the job....it was quiet, nobody bugged me and I could just crank my tunes and go. I also didn't mind cleaning the hall at the church, or even the fathers house.....all tho.....I used to have to change his bedding and do the shower, and he was as bald as a cue ball and whenever I'd see like a hair I'd instantly think ungodly thoughts as to where they might have come from and yes I know I'm going straight to hell and really can't believe I just shared that with all of you. I'm sorry I'm a horrible person and please pray for my children. Anyways......out of the gutter Shannon for petes sake.......really the safest thing would be to just sign off and stop writing now, but we all know me! I'll just plow on and see how many more times I can sound like a moron! Okay and here we go!! So back to the random hairs...NO WAIT.....I mean, back to the CLEANING.......yes, cleaning....I used to clean all sorts of strange areas at the church....including this scary basement area that kind of connected the church with the fathers place....and always had bugs and strange rooms all painted different shades of bright ugly colors. But I didn't even mind the basement....what REALLY creeped me out was cleaning in the actual church. I get the heeeeebie jeeeeeebies just walking in there, never mind the fact that I was alone. There was a few back rooms and some strange areas....I used to actually like cleaning in the confessional booths, always muttering my worst things under my breath pretending I was confessing, but really if there was another person on the other side they would have probably put me in a straight jacket and sent me off, or called my mother to beat me with a wooden spoon. Cleaning in the main open area, around all the pews was the scariest for me.....especially having to get up on the podium at the front to vacuum while statues of Jesus and others would stare at me.....and I could tell they were all judging me and my relationship with Kevan and our bastard child. I'd make up little conversations in my mind with them and for some reason my inner Jesus voice always sounded like he was right from Monty Python. I'd have to run this big ol vacuum cleaner in that quiet cave of a place and it would echo off the vaulted ceiling and stained glass and make it even spookier then it was. So this one time, I was in there vacuuming and it was a pain in the ass because I'd have to unplug the vacuum like 912374 times to get around all the pews and replug it in and I swear that took longer then the actual job. So I'm muttering to myself, and go to plug the vacuum in again and ZZZAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPP EXPLOSION!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm super confused and can't figure out why I'm laying down all of a sudden and I can smell burning. I come to my senses and realize I'm laying about 2 feet away from the wall socket with the plug to the vacuum still in my hand and my hand is burning and there's black smoke all up the wall around the outlet and I vaguely remember seeing blue flames. Awesome. I was just electrocuted. IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. All of this took just a second and while I'm still stunned I see the Father come in cause he heard a loud explosion noise and he sees me and realizes what's happened and I must have looked totally surprised and he starts to laugh.....and laugh......and laugh!! Now, anybody who knew him knows he was a pretty funny guy. I actually really liked him....he used to love to tell me religious jokes....and then he'd laugh at the fact that I wouldn't understand the punch lines.....like I'm talking laugh until tears came rolling down his face and he was gasping for air. Anyways, that's pretty much what he looked like as I lay on the floor of the church, still vibrating with electric currants.....he doubled over and grabbed his belly and between laughing bouts manages to get out "GIRL! You need to find some faith!!!" and I yeah yeah yeah and tell him I'm going to the hospital to have my hand looked at and stomp out of there. But as I leave....and the sun is shining and I realize I'm done work early for the day and don't have to vacuum in that place that makes me so uncomfortable it's kind of like the right thing to have happened. And I know the Catholic Church isn't a place for me! And for those who have been attending safely without getting electrocuted, it's probably the perfect place for you and just stay away from the one outlet on the far right wall with the black soot stains around it.

Wednesday, 16 May 2012

OHMYGODEVERYONE guess what?!!?!?!?!?! I ordered my fluevogs. Yes, the DREAM ones! Of course, I probably should have ordered the practical I can wear to work ones, but you know what? I didn't, so fuck off. I can be practical when I'm dead (that's how the saying goes right?). So I have to say THANK YOU to my Fluevog Angel who made my dreams come true! He bought me the "unicorn" if you will (well, I didn't even have the brains to come up with that one.....but when I was whining about accepting a gift as glorious as Fluevogs, some other poet came up with that terminology and I enjoyed it.....as in, those boots are like a unicorn, you'll never get them otherwise). WHERE THE HECK WAS I....ooohhh right....my Fluevog Angel, or FA as I'm going to call it from now on cause I get distracted easily and every time I spell Angel I want to put Angle and then it makes me laugh really hard.....again, distractions....I think the fluevogs have gone to my head!! Okay so my FA (I promise I'll tell this story....for those sighing and rolling their eyes at this, I know who you are and have an extra special punch for you later!) started with me at Christmas time.....we were all over at my parents house and he randomly asked me "If you had $500 right now, and could buy anything but couldn't use it on bills, kids etc and I instantly said "FLUEVOGS!" and whipped out my handy dandy iphone to show him a picture of the ones I've been lusting over for the last few years...it may or may not have been my screen saver. He insisted I needed to buy them....for me.....I should have them! They were regularly $609 (GASP) but on sale for $299 (how could I afford NOT to buy them right??) and it was Christmas time...and I had no money for me....or $300 boots....that are impractical....but sooooooo amazingly hot. So the months fly by....every occasion that pops up I joke with my husband "Boy, can't wait till I get that present of Fluevogs from you!" and my birthday rolled around "Gee, my birthday outfit sure is going to look good with those Fluevogs you bought me!" and of course....he hadn't. And I knew he hadn't....and he knew I knew he hadn't...and he always looked sad and would say "if I could afford to have those for you right now, they'd be on your feet already" which, I knew. I obsessively checked the Fluevog website every day multiple times to see if my size was sold out or not.....even went so far as to change my husbands screen saver and desktop on his laptop to pictures of fluevogs.....and always had the size I needed and the "checkout" page of the Fluevogs website open on the bottom tab of his computer. OBSESS MUCH??? But I just wanted them sooooooo baaaaaaaaaaad!!! And had totally resolved that I would never have them. So whenever I'd see my FA he'd always ask "buy your boots yet??" and I'd say no....and on my birthday he asked what I wanted and said "I'll kick in $100 towards your boots! You should have them! You deserve them! JUST BUY THEM!!!" and I laughed it off and told him when I saved up the other $300, I'd call him. So Mothers day rolls around and my FA comes over for dinner. He asks (as usual) if I'd gotten my boots yet....I say noooo. He says "I'm going to buy them for you. Let me buy them for you. I've had a good run at work this week....they can't be more then what, 5 or 600?" and I get all embarrassed and flustered and mutter something and glaze over it. Again he brings it up over dinner "go get your fluevog catalogue! Let's order these!" I'm practically droooooling and again say noooo it's too much. He leaves and we exchange a couple texts back and forth;

"Think about it, you deserve them. I think you do!! Sleep on it a few days"
"Uggghhhh....it's like offereing crack to a junkie!! haha"
"Just say yes damn it"
"Don't be bossy! That's my job!"
"K. I still want you to think about it. Let me know in a few days."

And that night I hardly slept. I mean, how do you accept a gift like that??? I asked all my closest friends (okay 2 or 3 people, but I don't pay them much so they have to like me a little for real?) and was told JUST DO IT and at the same time Ohhh man, I couldn't do it. I agonised over it. I just wanted to say YES but....the cost....and do I really deserve them?? Free and clear? Here, have a $400 gift, just cause. I woke up the next day and learnt it was International Fluevog Day and thought it had to be a sign!!!! So I did it. I ordered them. My FA said to give him a total and he'd bring over a cheque that night....which he did....even including extra money claiming I'd need to buy something to wear with my new boots. When I moaned about the price he said "I've picked up dinner tabs bigger then that" and looked at me like I was stunned. So order is in, and they should be here in about two weeks! Every day I want to run around and SCREAM like a 5 year old being chased by a bee. OH and also....for International Fluevog day...if you tweeted or facebooked or whatnot about the joyous occasion (how could you NOT!!) they would randomly select a few people to get a secret free gift with their purchase and they chose ME!!!!! I mean, it could be a square of toilet paper for all I care, I'd be happy!! My FA suggest an used sock or a reeeaaallllly long shoe horn, both I would enjoy!!! And thank you to my FA and to everyone who listened to me moan and groan and whine about these fucking boots over the last year (or longer for some of you). I tear up as I write this.....a little bit at the thought of all the amazing people in my life, but let's get real, mostly at the thought of my NEEEEEWWWWWW BOOOOOTTSSSSSSS! SQUUUUEEEE!!!!!

Thursday, 10 May 2012

So my kids....they are all very....colourful. I'm not sure who possibly they most take after, but I'm pretty sure it's their dad. They come up with some of the most amazing statements...it just really blows my mind. Sometimes these things are appropriate, sometimes not so much. Here's a few memorable moments from the last few years of some of the things out of Kohens mouth-

K (the 6 year old)-

"You smell like dog." This said to our babysitter...who has many dogs.

"I don't know who I'm going to marry, but I know I'm not going to marry a boy."

"Mom? How many trees are there in the whole wide world?"

"Haha you're funny cause you pee out your butt. Mom? Do girls pee out their butts?"

"Girls like you don't have any money!" this said to one of the girls who I work with.

"It's really fucking cold in here!" testing out swearing while driving in the van...and yes, it was really fucking cold in there.

"It's really fucking cold in here!" this said when coming home to our house after Barry refused to turn the furnace on anymore for the season.

"Where the hell are we?" said as he looked up from his book while parked waiting for Barry at the bank.

An interaction between K (6) and G (12);
Gav- I had a bad day. Kohen pushed me down the path and was calling me bad names.
Me- what kinds of bad names?
Gav- I'd prefer not to say.
Me- just say it.
Gav- vagina okay? He was saying "Gav is a vagina" over and over.

"I just held my breath and counted to 100!............but just my nose."

"Dad...did you stay and watch my whole hockey game?" Barry says no he didn't "I scored goals!" which he didn't.

Me - What do you want for breakfast?
Koh - Get a shotgun, shoot a cow and I'll eat that.

While sitting on the toilet in the morning "Now I'll nevah (he doesn't pronouce his R's so this is how never sounds) go to school!! NEVAH! I can't! I'm stuck here with poo stuck in my bum!"

"Mom? Me and Gav are bastards, but not Lenny, right?? But why are we bastards?"